Only In Your Dreams
by Akele
Summary: Dean's out cold in the hospital with a broken leg. He slips off into dreamland and finds comfort in spending time with a good friend. Also, the hunter gets a much needed chance to vent. One shot; spoilers for beginning of season 7.


**A/N: Man... it's been a while since I've posted anything. After the last season of SPN ended, my muse just sort of vanished. But now season 7 is up and I'm inspired again! Yay! Except for this season has me sort of mad because of what happened to poor Cas ='( So I wrote this. It's supposed to take place between episode 2 and 3 of season 7, while Dean is sleeping in the hospital. He has a dream and in it he meets with Castiel. Sort of sad since I'm going along with what the writers want the views to think (that Cas is "dead"). It's not my best work, but I figured I'd post it anyway (yes, I know Dean is a bit OoC). It may be edited in the next day or so, but for now... Be gentle and enjoy!**

**Spoilers: Beginning of Season 7 (sort of)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. If I did, Castiel wouldn't be "dead". All rights go to the CW Network and Eric Kripke.**

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><p>It was a perfect afternoon by the lake side. The weather was just right (low seventies with a warm autumn breeze) and there were just enough white clouds in the sky to keep the sun from reflection too brightly of the waters. Trees with leaves of orange, red, and yellow-green lined the lake and its surrounding land. The water itself was crystal clear and calm, disturbed only by the occasional wind. Reflected by the lake surface, the vibrant colors of the forest seemed to dance when a rare ripple rolled by.<p>

The lake and all its natural beauty were not alone. There was one small wooden dock reaching off from its southern shoreline, and on that dock sat two men. They sat in two folding chairs, side by side, and contently silent for the longest time. One of them wore casual clothes and held a fishing pole, but no fish appeared to bite. The other man, dressed in a suit and tan overcoat, studied the forest and the sky with prudent eyes. He seemed to be waiting for something, yet he remained patient.

Several comfortable minutes passed before the man with the fishing pole spoke up. His eyes focused on the water, but his words were directed to his friend sitting beside him.

"This is a dream, isn't it?" he asked solemnly.

"Yes," the other man replied. Like his friend, he also continued to look forward when he spoke. "You are in a hospital with a broken leg, sleeping. Do not worry, Dean. You are safe."

Dean looked over at his friend, frowning. It was the angel Castiel that was with him – not just his friend, but his best friend. It made sense that he would be there with him, except for one detail that rang painfully inside of Dean Winchester's heart.

"You're not the real Cas," stated the hunter in a voice that held a hidden hope. A part of him did wish that it was the real Castiel with him by the lake and not just some phony image of his friend he had subconsciously conjured up. However, it wasn't meant to be.

"No," the fake Castiel answered. His eyes slid over to Dean for a moment before looking back out at the lake. "I'm sorry."

Dean nodded and looked ahead again. It would have been too good to be true to be the real thing. Something hard clogged his throat, burning his eyes in the process. He swallowed several times until the lump went away, but the pressure behind his eyes persisted. Castiel didn't seem to notice though, so Dean took his time gathering his thoughts once more. He was sitting in a dream with a Cas his own mind had made up. But why were they by a lake, and why was he with the angel?

That was a stupid question. Of course he knew why Castiel was with him.

"So I guess you're here to give me some sort of guilt trip?" the Winchester questioned his friend with an irritated glance. Castiel gave him that confused look that Dean had come to know so well. In the past, it had earned the angel several impatient sighs and, eventually, knowing laughs. Now, it only served to further stab at the hunter's aching heart.

"Why would I do that?"

Dean sighed – an instinctive reaction to Castiel's cluelessness. "Because I screwed up, that's why."

Now Cas frowned, studying Dean under his scrutinizing gaze. "Dean, you have nothing to be guilty for."

The hunter averted his eyes from his friend's stare. An unwelcome memory flashed to the front of his mind, reminding him of a time when that look had made him fidget and of other times when he had stared back rebelliously. His mind had created the fake Cas a little too well.

"Dean?"

Dean immediately turned his attention back to the angel, clearing his throat of the cursed lump that had appeared again. Without even thinking, his mouth moved and out came words. "Of course there is, Cas. I messed things up big time. I let you down and now…"

Something wet snaked its way down his cheek, stopping him before he could finish speaking. Dean turned away from Castiel and quickly wiped away the tear. Apparently emotions were a lot harder to control in the world of dreams than they were in the real world. Or perhaps he had just let everything build up too much. Castiel waited quietly until Dean was able to continue speaking.

"Now Sam's hallucinating and can't tell if it's the damned Devil or his own brother he's shooting at. Bobby's house is a smoldering pile of ash, and Bobby… he's probably dead." – Dean heaved an angry sigh – "Those God damned Leviathan. And it's all because I didn't stop you, Cas. I couldn't save you."

Castiel was silent for a while longer; whether it was to give the hunter time to calm down or just to collect his own thoughts, it wasn't clear. "You shouldn't blame yourself," he eventually insisted. "There was nothing you could have said to stop me."

"No, that's not true," Dean persisted, shaking his head before giving his friend a sad look. "I should have tried harder to stop you. Or, I should have helped you from the start so you never agreed to work with that damned demon. I…" Dean swallowed and brushed back his shortcut hair as he took a deep breath. He looked back at Castiel, making sure to meet his friend's eyes. "It's not supposed to go like this. I always lose everyone I care about – anyone who's even remotely important to me. Mom, Dad, Lisa and Ben… Ellen and Jo; hell, even Sammy. Bobby might be dead now, too. Dammit, Cas, why can't I save someone just once? Of everyone I've lost, now you're gone too? You were my friend! One of the only friends I've got…

"Heck, what am I talking about? Maybe things are supposed to go this way? Maybe I'm cursed. I make a friend or fall in love with someone and they die. Still, there's gotta be something I could have done; something I could've said to keep you from running off and dying."

By the time he had finished laying out his soul, Dean's face was flushed with frustration and tears of regret blurred his vision. Castiel watched his friend struggle to hold in his emotions, and the angel wished he knew what to say to make him feel better. Still, the two sat in a profound silence, each staring out at the lake, until (finally) Cas found what he thought was the right thing to say.

"Dean, I don't blame you for what happened, but if it makes you feel better then…" the angel gave the hunter a warm, soothing look. "Then you are forgiven."

Dean nodded and met his friend's gaze with a gentle smile. Even though the Castiel before him wasn't actually real, hearing the angel say those words still seemed to lift a weight from his shoulders. Yes, Dean still felt guilt and regret for not trying hard enough to stop Cas from being an idiot, but a part of him was at peace now. It was a small part, but it made all the difference.

Castiel stood before the Winchester could thank him. Dean remained seated, feeling a sense of serenity wash over him. Still, the hunter glanced up at his friend in a mildly confused way.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Away," Castiel explained. "You are going to be waking up soon."

"Oh." Dean couldn't keep the disappointment from his voice. "Can't you stay and sit until I do, though? I know you're not real, but…"

The angel smiled inwardly at Dean's attempt to not sound so sentimental. He deeply appreciated the suggestion though, so he seated himself again. Dean appeared to relax and almost instantly went back to fishing. The hunter watched the waters patiently, enjoying the company and the peace. He was going to hate it when he woke up.

Ripples broke the water surface as the bobber suddenly ducked down. Both of the men watched the spot, slightly surprised the lake was populated.

"I believe you "have a bite"." Castiel pointed out.

"Yeah," Dean laughed lightly and pulled on the pole, turning the reel to draw in the line. "Here, Cas, let me show you how to fish."


End file.
